


Follow the Light ~ Season 13 coda

by Jdragon122



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depressed Dean, Depression, M/M, Post-Season/Series 12, Temporary Character Death, after 12x23, season 12/13 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 01:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jdragon122/pseuds/Jdragon122
Summary: It's not what he expected at first. The pain. Dean had always known death was painful, but this was different.It wasn't like Sam’s or Bobby’s or anyone else's. It was empty, hollow and utterly numb.





	Follow the Light ~ Season 13 coda

**Author's Note:**

> A season 13 coda-
> 
> I felt the urge to write this after the season 12 finale. I needed to get my feels out. So here's some pain with a bitter sweet ending :)
> 
> *sidenote: I posted this on mobile so feel free to point out any mistakes I should fix

It's not what he expected at first. The pain. Dean had always known death was painful, but this was different.

  
It wasn't like Sam’s or Bobby’s or anyone else's. It was empty, hollow and utterly numb.

  
The first week was a blur. No, more like a buzz. The buzz of alcohol, the buzz of voices around him, the buzz of his mind as it tried to handle the situation.

  
He knew Cas needed to be buried. Sam insisted on a pyre but Dean reeled at the thought. Cas, burning. He'd already seen that once.

  
Dean remembered crying silently, in the darkness of his room. He didn't want Sam to see — to see how not okay he was. He'd finally cracked one night when, at Dean's insistence, they cast a preservation spell on Cas’s body. The tears had flowed then, endlessly streaking his face and reddening his already tired eyes. And sleep didn't help, and neither did drinking. Nothing would.

  
_Cas was dead._

  
So he slept. Unconsciousness was far more preferable than reality. He barely ate, barely moved from his room, too tired to even turn the lights on.

 

Sam had finally come to feed him after a couple days, or at least Dean thought it was. He couldn't see the sun and didn't pick up his phone. He knew he was sulking, and he didn't care.

  
“Dean… you need to eat.”

  
“Why?”

  
“You need to take care of yourself.”

  
“Why?”

  
Sam sighed, sitting down on the bed, causing it to dip.

  
“You think he would've wanted this, for you?”

  
Dean swallowed, anger suddenly boiling under his skin — the first he had felt in a while. He sat up, suddenly tearing the blankets off and standing barefoot on the cold floor.

  
“Get out.”

  
“Dean —”

  
“GET OUT!!”

  
He slammed the door in his brother's face, his chest heaving. He didn't realize he was crying until a tear hit the stone floor. And they wouldn't stop again. Why wouldn't it stop?

 

When his sleep too became tainted with nightmares, he finally resolved to roaming the waking world. It didn't help either.

  
He saw them everywhere, in the coat hanging by the door, in the open door down the hall, in his eyes when he was forced to look into a mirror — memories. Nightmares.

  
After a while the emptiness inside him changed. It twisted and molded into an ache inside his chest. He needed to let it out.

  
So he did it the only way he could. Hunting.

  
Sam had been surprised when Dean had told him to get packed for a drive to Colorado. Werewolf, was all Dean has said before heading to the Impala.

  
And after that was a vamp nest, then a ghost, then a wendigo…

Three months later and Cas’s body still lay untouched in his old room. Dean still refused to burn him.

  
“Dean, it’s time.”

  
“No.”

  
“There's no use keeping his body. It's not him Dean. Cas is — Cas is g —”

  
“Don't you dare say it. Don't you dare,” Dean felt the pain in his chest swell as he growled at his brother. “This isn't a question. This is an order.”

  
“Dean… we can't. You can't keep going on like this. You think I don't notice how frantic you are to hunt? You can't even come home anymore without a drink before you walk in the door. You need to — god I hate saying this — you need to let go.”

  
Dean froze, staring at his little brother in disbelief.

  
Sam let out a shaky breath as Dean stared. “Dean… you barely call me Sammy anymore. You order me around, saying we _need_ to do things because we have to... and I think —”

  
“You think what?” Dean's voice was harsher than he had meant it.

  
Sam paused, “... never mind.” He turned and walked out into the hall.

 

The more Dean hunted, the more angrier he seemed to get. He would be grumpy after a case, chugging a beer before hitting the sack, muttering only a quiet goodnight.

  
And Sam tried to talk to him, to help him, but Dean was stubborn. Still, everything reminded him of his angel — his gone, lost angel.

  
_He was dead._

  
It took nearly another month before Sam approached him again, but this time, he didn't let Dean get away.

  
It was in the library, Dean typing away on the laptop looking for yet another case. Sam sat down on the table’s edge, hands folded in his lap as he waited.

  
Dean finally glanced up, acknowledging his brother’s presence before returning to the screen. “You here to help or what?” Dean asked gruffly, the rings under his eyes still present and ever darkening.

  
“Dean we need to talk.”

  
The tapping stopped. Dean let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping even more forward as he slid down to rest his elbows on the table. He didn't look at Sam but he felt his brother's scrutinizing gaze upon him. He felt tired again. He was always tired.

  
Dean's permanent frown deepened as he refused to turn his attention to his brother, until Sam started speaking.

  
“You're acting like dad.”

  
The statement hung in the air and Dean couldn't help his own shocked expression.

  
“What?” His voice was quiet, a strangled word.

  
“Your obsession with hunting, this way to cope with what happened… You’re not out for revenge but that's because there's nothing left to take revenge on. Lucifer’s gone, but you're still searching for a scapegoat. Some way to place blame and then take it out on whatever. I know the difference between hunting because we want to, and hunting because you _need_ to.”

  
Dean sat silently, staring at his brother as the words poured from his mouth.

  
“What?” He couldn't help his voice from shaking this time.

  
“You don't think I know how you feel Dean? How painful this is?”

  
Dean felt himself going numb again, the prickly feeling crawling up his arms and to his face, draining him.

  
“I remember when — when Jess first died…” Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, “I felt like there was no more real future for me. My dream life with her and a normal job, maybe kids — gone. You think I don't still think about it? The pain doesn't go away, but the anger does. But… Dean, I want to ask you something.”

  
Dean nodded wordlessly, his mouth going dry.

  
“I felt like you do after Jess died, but me and Jess were...more.”

  
Dean listened acutely, his suspicion sowing dread in his stomach.

  
“Dean, is there something you wanna tell me about you and Cas?”

The weight of the question began to dawn on him with painfully slow realization. “What are you talking about?” Dean questioned cautiously, his voice rough.

  
“You can't fool me Dean. You're mourning more than just a friend.”

  
Dean's face twisted as the meaning finally hit him. “I can't — I wouldn't…” he tried to laugh it off. Sam didn't buy it. His laugh turned into heavy heaving as he suddenly blinked back tears.

  
“Oh god,” Dean felt himself shuddering as his emotions hit him like a truck. “No… I couldn't. It's not — like that… oh god.” Dean wanted to throw up. He could feel a thick hole inside him twisting like a knife in his abdomen.

  
Memories came flooding back to him, ones he had worked so hard on shoving down. He swallowed and tried breathing. It didn't help. He felt himself crumbling.

  
“I can't stop thinking about him Sam… every goddamn day, no matter what I do, he's always there and I can't stop it. I couldn't stop it…” A sob wracked his frame and he wiped a hand across his face. “Oh god.”

  
He cried, his chest suddenly filling with strange emotions that only made the pain worse. But they weren't strange, he'd felt them before.

  
He inhaled loudly, freezing as more tears wet his cheeks. His eyes flicked around endlessly, his thoughts plainly written on his face.

  
“Oh god.” Now he thought he'd actually throw up. “I — I love him.”

  
He looked up at his brother, whose big sad eyes were filled with regret and pity.

  
“I loved him.”

  
His expression crumbled, his outward resolve dissolving. “I loved him… but I was too late.”

  
And then he broke. Sam wrapped his arms around him as he let out his grief. He was a sputtering, utter emotional mess, and he didn't care.

 

The rest of the week, Dean found himself locked in his room again. But he didn't spend much time in bed, he spent time kneeling on the floor.

  
“Please… god why?” He mumbled as he looked up at his empty ceiling. “Please, help me. I loved — I really loved him but… it wasn't good enough.”

  
Love couldn't bring Cas back. But maybe God could.

 

He didn't.

  
Dean stopped praying.

 

He floated. Gliding through life like a ghost on the wind. He stopped hunting. Sam was worried.

  
It was late into the night when Sam decided to pray. Dean had only appeared to grab a refrigerated sandwich that day and then disappeared. He was fading away.

  
It nearly broke Sam seeing his brother like this, but he needed to stay strong. Dean needed something stable, something constant. And that thing was Sam.

  
Sam finally allowed himself to cry as he kneeled in the darkness, tears silently falling.

  
“Hey Chuck, it's Sam. I — I know you're far away right now but… we need your help. I need your help. Dean he's… I’m scared for him. Cas is — Cas is gone... I've already lost my friend, please don't let me loose my brother too.”

  
Nothing happened after that.

 

Until Sam fell asleep one Thursday night. He could immediately tell it wasn't a normal dream, everything was far too vibrant and precise.

  
The sight of the small bearded man on the park bench in front of him gave him a start.

  
“Hello Sam.”

  
Sam froze at the familiar voice.

  
“You came.”

  
“I did.” Chuck rose and strode towards the hunter. “I've heard your pleas… and Dean's.”

  
“Then why didn't you answer sooner? He's been praying for weeks. He's been in pain for months!”

  
“Because I wanted him to realize what he was missing. You helped with that Sam. Isn't water sweeter after a hard day of labor?”

  
Sam stood, surprised and dangerously hopeful.

  
“Will you help Cas?”

 

The next morning Dean woke to a hard shake of his shoulders. Sam's eyes were bright and alive as Dean looked at him.

  
“Sam what's going on?”

  
Sam said nothing but excitedly hurried out of the room. Dean slowly got up and followed the sound of his brother's footsteps, all the way to Cas’s room. He stopped.

  
No. No hoping. Good things rarely happen to them anymore. To hope was to die.

  
But he still pushed at the door, letting it creak open. His heart stopped.

  
Sam had his arms wrapped around a figure, holding him so tight he nearly lifted him off the ground. When the figure saw Dean, he tensed. Sam let him down and turned to Dean with a teary smile.

  
But Dean wasn't looking at him. He was looking at the angel standing beside the bed. Breathing and moving and alive, hair tussled and trench coat wrinkled as if no time had passed.

  
Dean strode forward, straight towards him. Cas lifted his arms for a hug but Dean had other ideas.

  
Dean grabbed his face, taking him by surprise and kissed him hard. Cas froze, eyes widening as Dean continued the kiss.

  
Dean refused to let go, pressing himself against the angel as he attempted to process all that was happening.

  
Eventually Dean held back, keeping Cas’s face cradled in his hands as he stared at him with wet eyes. He was surprised to find that Cas was crying too.

  
Shaky hands covered his as the angel leaned forward and returned the gesture with a soft press of his lips.

  
Soft. Gentle. Loving.

  
Perfect.

  
The tears continued to fall, and Dean didn’t stop them. This time, he didn’t want them to stop.

  
“Cas —” his voice trembled as he finally said the name that had been slowly choking him.

  
He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent, this feeling. Cas did the same. The audible intake of breath was a sweet sound. A song in the silence. And then came the chorus, the climax of musical beauty.

  
“Dean.”

  
Dean shuddered, his name sending a shiver down his spine. The warmth of feeling rushed back to him. The ache of nothingness melted and filled his heart with the soothing flow of what could only be love. Wasn’t it always love that revived a dying heart?

  
“Cas… I — I thought you were —”

  
“Shhh…” The angel hushed him, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “It’s alright.”

  
“I thought —”

  
“Dean —”

  
“I love you…”

  
Dean felt a tear fall under the pad of his thumb. He opened his eyes.

  
He had never seen Cas’s eyes so blue and full of sea. They were swimming with unshed emotion, finally slipping to trickle down his face.

  
“I love you,” Dean said more firmly, “I missed you…”

  
The angel pressed forward to wrap himself around the hunter’s chest, wetting the overworn shirt as he rested his face on Dean’s shoulder.

  
“I —” Dean had never heard Cas’s voice so fragile. “I love you too…”

  
They stood there for an indistinguishable amount of time. Soaking each other in their own warmth and comfort.

  
They never noticed that Sam had left. And they never notice the invisible smile in the quiet room as the bearded man watched.

  
“I have always wanted you to be happy.” The man spoke on deaf ears. “Maybe now, you can finally learn to keep each other.

  
No matter the darkness around you, your love will follow your light. The brightness of your bond will lead you through strife. Nothing is truly lost, even in the silence. You will always find each other.

  
You will always be together.”


End file.
